


An N7 team on the continent

by Iarinthel



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iarinthel/pseuds/Iarinthel
Summary: This is basically just a team of N7s ending up in the continent of the Witcher series, inspired by “With a Conquering Air” by inexplicifics.By which I mean in this Geralt is a warlord, and he came across the team in their time of need.You already know whether or not that interests you.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 107
Collections: Inspired by inexplicific Accidental Warlord AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With a Conquering Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273713) by [inexplicifics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics). 



Alessia has always thought of herself as a fairly level headed person. Her family might disagree, and could probably argue that she most certainly is _not_ , but she believes that she’s managed to keep an even keel in the most trying times.

Like right now, for example.

“Shadow! Are you nearby?!”

“Yes.”

“Paladin is badly injured, we need somewhere to rest.”

“War zone.”

“I can _see_ where we are! But if he doesn’t get medical attention soon he’ll die!”

“Medi-gel?”

“I’ve applied my last pack on his injuries, but you and I both know it’ll only close the external wounds. His ribs are cracked, and I’m sure he has other internal wounds. He needs to be in a med-bay or a hospital, ASAP.”

Another biotic explosion echoes in the air, along with the dying grumble of a Brute. Clearly, Fury is doing her level best to clear out the Reapers. Shadow has her pistol on one hand and her sword in the other, keeping the straggling Husks from trying to kill Alessia and Paladin. Alessia is too worried for Paladin, who’s breathing has become dangerously shallow in her arms, to be of much help.

“Reaper tech?”

“Over there. Why do you ask?”

Instead of answering, Shadow puts a hand up to her ear.

“Fury.”

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

“I’m a bit busy at the moment!”

“We need you.”

“Fine! Give me a minute!”

A shrill whistle precedes the sound of a missile exploding, before Fury finally makes her way towards the rest of her team. Her pace is unhurried, and leisurely. If she wasn’t wearing a mask Alessia is sure she’d see a grin on her face.

“So what did you need me for?”

“Paladin.”

“He definitely looks like he’s in bad shape.”

“Can you do anything to help?”

“Please?”

Fury crouched in front of Alessia and Paladin, checking his vitals and scanning his body with her omni-tools’ medical scanner app for a more in-depth look at his injuries. After a few minutes, she can only shake her head.

“He has too many internal wounds for me to be able to help. We need to get him to a doctor.”

“How? After the _other_ Reaper tech exploded, we and a few Reaper troops have been stranded on some planet where the humans don’t speak English.”

“Or any language I know at least. But if we can’t get any help soon, I don’t like his chances.”

“And how, exactly—“

A rather pointed cough could be heard, just behind them. Fury stood, and pointed her pistol at the strangers that stared at the four of them. Shadow also turned around, her pistol pointed in their direction. Alessia herself has her hands full with Paladin, but she keeps a close eye on their hands, just in case. There were two of them, both with yellow cat-like eyes and scars on their faces. They have two swords attached to their belts, and wore armour that wouldn’t look out of place in a LARP session. Made with dyed leather, and clearly well maintained, they looked dangerous enough to be a threat.

One of them had silver hair, and a rather intense glare. He didn’t look all that old, but he also has very unique colouring. For all they know, he may not be human at all, despite all the similarities. The golden eyed companion of his, who had brown hair rather than silver, spoke.

“Tu oui haat ramb?”

Alessia shook her head, “We don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Silver hair spoke this time, voice resigned. “Tuh’d pudran, Eskel. Drao lyh’d ihtancdyht ic.”

“Oui’na dra uha dryd fyhdat du ramb dras, Geralt.”

“Mad’c zicd lymm Triss rana. Cra lyh raym res.”

Silver hair took out a box from his pocket, and spoke to it like it was a phone of some kind. A voice spoke in reply, before a _portal_ opened up right next to him. A woman came through, hair the colour of chestnuts and eyes as blue as cornflowers. She held bottles in her hands, and made her way to Alessia and Paladin.

Shadow steps in front of her with her sword pointed at her throat as a warning, causing the woman to stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened, and she keeps them on Shadow as she speaks to the scarred strangers in their language. Their conversation is short, but it seems to have gotten the meaning through. Instead of coming closer, she puts down the bottles in front of the team.

“Fury.”

“Demolisher?”

“Take the bottles.”

Pistol still pointed at the woman, Fury takes the bottles back to Alessia. Who opens a bottle, sniffs at it delicately, before pouring it on Paladin’s wounds. Miraculously, it seems to heal him, but whether or not it healed his internal injuries Alessia can’t tell. Alessia nods her head, and both Fury and Shadow lower their weapons, though neither of them holster their guns.

The woman moves closer, and they allow her to have a look at Paladin. Her hands glow as she waves them over him, and his breathing slows down to a more typical pace. Alessia’s shoulders visibly droop in relief, which the three strangers clearly notice. After awhile, she speaks to Alessia, but it seems she knows they won’t understand her as she stops on her own not long after. Instead, she points at the portal and motions them through.

Figuring she has nothing to lose, Alessia nods before standing up. Carrying her captain in her arms, careful not to jostle him, she steps through the portal. Fury and Shadow share a look, before following just behind them.

The two cat-eyed scarred strangers are the last to follow through, before the portal disappears. They speak to another woman waiting on the other side of the portal, a dark haired statuesque lady in dark clothes.

The portal has led them to an imposing fortress, so far as Alessia can tell. Made of grey stone, it is warm and clean though sparsely decorated. The room they come through seems to be an office, with bookshelves filled with books, a desk, and a map.

The woman motions at her to follow, and so Alessia does with her captain in her arms. They go to what looks like an infirmary, and Alessia puts Paladin down on a spare cot. The woman bustles amongst an array of bottles and what looks like medicinal supplies.

Alessia stands to the side, keeping careful watch over her captain and the woman that saved his life. She’s not entirely sure what exactly she’s doing, but so far she’s been trustworthy so she won’t interfere.

God only knows what will happen from here on out, and Alessia only prays that Paladin will pull through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sentences that Eskel and Geralt say translates as:
> 
> Do you need help?
> 
> Don’t bother, [Eskel]. They can’t understand us.
> 
> You’re the one that wanted to help them, [Geralt].
> 
> Let’s just call [Triss] here. She can heal him.


	2. Interim: a meeting

Back at Geralt’s office

“Geralt, who are these people?”

A shrug was his only answer. Yennefer was sceptical.

“You don’t know who they are, but you have Triss healing one of them?”

“He wants to recruit them.”

“...Why?”

“They were able to kill monsters in the span of minutes.”

“Are they Witchers?”

“No.”

“So they’re all humans?”

“As far as we could tell, yes.”

“What kind of monsters did they fight?”

“...Strange monsters, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. They all glowed, and were loud.”

“You realize that’s not helpful at all.”

“The corpses are still near the Blue Mountain if you want to see them for yourself.”

The door opened, letting in Jaskier and Vesemir to the room. Jaskier found a seat, and Vesemir stood next to Eskel. Vesemir’s frown was thoughtful, though it may be out of confusion. “Monsters so close to Kaer Morhen? Why haven’t we heard of this?”

“It happened just a little while ago. Less than an hour ago, in fact.”

“And ended just as swiftly.”

”Is there more of them we need to watch out for?”

“No, the 4 of them killed them all.”

“How many were there?”

“At least 10, no more than 30.”

“And they killed them all in a matter of minutes?”

“Yes.”

“How did they kill them so fast?”

“Their weapons are strange. Made of some sort of metal, some were big while others were small. All of them more accurate than a crossbow, and loud as a cannon.“

Everyone in the room took some time to digest the information.

Eventually, Yennefer was the first to speak. “Where are they now?”

“In the infirmary, watching over the injured man. He seems important to them.”

“We need to keep an eye on them. People that can kill monsters so quickly are dangerous.”

“I agree.”

”You realize how hypocritical that is?”

“ _Your_ allegiance is not in question. _Theirs_ are. Until we can be sure they won’t be a danger to all of us, we should have someone watching them.”

Jaskier stood. “I’ll do it.”

“Jaskier? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Geralt and Eskel are busy, Vesemir and Yennefer both have more pressing matters to attend to, and Triss is going to have her hands full healing the man. I can watch over them for awhile.”

“You’ll be alright?”

“We’re in a fortress filled with Witchers. If they do anything to me, I’m sure that any of them will defend me if I call out.”

“You can’t watch over them in the mornings. Ciri still has lessons.”

“Lambert can be their watcher in the morning then.”

“...Fine.”

”I’ll go tell Lambert.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Natalia is not, nor has she ever been, verbose. She’s not mute, but she only speaks when spoken to in as concise a manner as she can get away with. She writes in much the same way, which had gotten her some reprimands from her school teachers in her youth, but is apparently not at all unusual in the military.

Her team, N7s all, understands this. Demolisher, Fury, and Paladin speak well enough to more than make up for her silence. No one gets through N school without some sort of eccentricity, and being selectively mute is certainly one of the lesser foibles they’ve had to deal with.

And so, they have her stand watch while Demolisher and Fury converse quietly.

“Do you know how long it’ll take for Paladin to recover?”

“I scanned him a little while ago, and it looks like he’ll make a full recovery within a week.”

“So soon?”

“Whatever it was that woman did with her glowing hand healed him as thoroughly as if we sent him to Citadel’s best hospital.”

“Really?”

“It’s like she used magic.”

“... I can believe it. Remember that portal that opened up?”

“How could I forget? It was like stepping through a charged up mass relay.”

“It made my teeth tingle.”

Natalia couldn’t help the snort that came out. Fury and Demolisher chuckled in response, before they took the conversation to a different direction.

“We need to be able to speak to whoever’s in charge.”

“I’d bet creds it’s the white haired scarred man we met not too long ago.”

“Why do you think so?”

“It was because of him that Paladin was healed. I doubt that many people have a healer on hand without some authority over an organization that needs one.”

“You think he’s a merc?”

“Possibly.”

“Well then, we need—“

“Company.”

Fury and Demolisher turned to Shadow, who was staring at the young man in silk finery coming towards them.

“Who’s that?”

“Whoever he is, he’s wearing the same amulet as the people that brought us in.”

The wolf head amulet swinging on his chest was in fact very similar to the ones worn by the men and women that brought them to this fortress. It gleamed in the lamp light, as if newly forged.

“Can we trust him?”

“Can we afford not to? It’s because of them that Paladin isn’t dead yet.”

“So we’re going to, what, try to make friends?”

“As best we can when we don’t speak their language.”

“You’re the boss.”

With that said, Natalia did nothing to impede his way to the team, though she kept a close eye on him. His smile was friendly, though understandably wary, as he spoke. Noticing the blank looks they’re giving him, he then simply pointed to himself and said, “Jaskier.”

“Did he just say Buttercup?”

“Just humour him.”

So they repeated the moniker, and his smile brightened. He gestured towards them, which Demolisher took to mean that they need to introduce themselves. With a look passed between the three of them, Demolisher and Fury did so.

“Alessia.”

“Victoria.”

Jaskier motioned to Natalia, who answered, “Natalia.”

He... _bowed_ with a flourish, unnecessarily flamboyant in his manner. Demolisher/Alessia is the only one that reciprocates, though her curtsy is much more constrained than his bow. Fury/Victoria only smirks in response, while Natalia nods minutely before turning her gaze away.

The silence that ensues is awkward and long, as none of the women could speak or understand his language, and he didn’t speak or understand theirs. Language barriers can be frustrating, to say the least.

“This is awkward.”

“No kidding.”

”I see we’re getting along with the locals.”

“Stephen!”

“Paladin!”

The smile on their captain’s face is wry as he faces his team as best he’s able, which in this case means turning his head slightly. The relief on Alessia and Victoria’s faces is mirrored in Natalia’s, which Jaskier notes carefully. Alessia turns on her scanner on her omni-tool, carefully scanning his body, much to Jaskier’s surprise.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a skycar.”

“You’re not entirely wrong. A Brute took you down.”

“Ah. That explains a lot. How did I get healed?”

“We met two armed men, who called a woman that did the healing. They brought us here.”

Alessia powered down the scanner, and declared, “Whatever magic it was they did, it healed you fully. All your surface wounds are gone, and your ribs are all in one piece. You need to rest for at least a week still, but you should be fine by then.”

“Good to hear. And who’s this?”

Paladin/Stephen looks directly at Jaskier, who waves in response.

“He calls himself Jaskier. We think he’s affiliated with the people that had you healed.”

“Buttercup?”

“Yes, that’s what he introduced himself as.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too.”

Alessia doesn’t even turn as she smacks Victoria’s arm. Her shit eating grin is unrepentant, but she does quiet down for awhile.

“The people here don’t speak any language we know, but they were kind enough to have you healed regardless. We think we know who to thank, but that doesn’t do us much good when we can’t even understand what they say.”

“Hmm... Then we need someone to teach us the local language. The question is, who?”

“Why not ask Jaskier?”

“What makes you think he’ll help?”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

All of them turn to look at Jaskier, who only raises an eyebrow at them.

“Wait, how will we ask? It’s not exactly like we can mime it.”

“He calls himself Jaskier, you said?”

“...Yes?”

“That sounds Polish. Does anyone here speak Polish?”

“Not unless you do.”

“...I’m rusty, but I could try.”

Paladin turns towards Jaskier with a slight smile and says, “Cześć, jestem Stephen.”

Jaskier’s face brightens, before he starts babbling excitedly at Stephen. Stephen’s smile turns strained, which Jaskier notes. He tries to slow down, but it’s clear that he’s very relieved to have someone to talk to on their team.

“What is he saying, Stephen?”

“He’s going a bit fast for me, but I think he’s saying that we’re in a place called Kaer Morhen. It’s apparently a fortress of...Witchers?”

“What’s a Witcher?”

“Haven’t got a clue. He’s also saying that the leader of the Witchers is a man named Geralt, who is titled ‘the White Wolf,’ and is apparently ungodly handsome? And that he’s been assigned to watch over us.”

“He’s on babysitting duty huh?”

“They probably don’t trust us.”

“That’s fair, we don’t entirely trust them either.”

“How fluent are you in Polish?”

“I understand it well enough, but it’s been a decade since I needed to speak it.”

“So you can’t translate for us?”

“Not unless he’s willing to teach me.”

“Can’t you have your translator do the heavy lifting for you?”

“I’d need to calibrate it for that, but I could try.”

Stephen sits up, and he fiddles with his translator on his ear, and on his omni-tool on his right wrist. Jaskier seems fascinated by omni-tools, and stares at the orange light whenever anyone activates it near him. It takes a few more minutes, but he finally finishes.

_“Can you understand me?”_

Jaskier’s widening eyes is almost comical, and his babbling takes on a very relieved note. Still not understandable to anyone other than Stephen, but it’s obvious that he’s glad to have a way to communicate with them.

“Hey, can you do that with our translators too?”

“You’re going to need to give me administrator access, but yeah I can.”

The next little while is spent by the team to having their translators calibrated to Stephen’s specifications, and they all in turn speak to Jaskier to test how well it works.

_“Did you pick Jaskier as your name?”_

_“Yes, as a matter of fact.”_

_“What’s a Witcher?”_

_“It’s a bit complicated, but in essence they’re warriors given strength and magic to defend humanity from monsters.”_

_“What about you 3?”_

_“What about us?”_

_“I heard you fought and killed many monsters yourselves. Are you Witchers?”_

_“No, we’re human. We’ve been fighting Reapers for 5 years now.”_

_“Reapers?”_

_“The monsters we fought before being brought here. We call them Reapers.”_

_“Why?”_

_“They were made to kill us, harvesting us like wheat in a field.”_

_“If you have to call us anything, just calls us the N7s.”_

Alessia makes a point of tapping the N7 on her armour, pride shining on her bare face. All of them took off their helmets awhile ago, figuring that they won’t be fighting inside an infirmary.

_“N7?”_

_“It’s a designation, telling people we’re the best of the best.”_

_“Are you?”_

_“We are.”_

Jaskier seemed bemused by the declaration, but he didn’t refute it. Natalia personally thinks Alessia is being a bit brash, but she’s not entirely wrong. There’s a reason N7s were the leaders on the ground teams fighting Reapers for awhile, after all.

_“Regardless, Jaskier, we wanted to ask you something.”_

_“Go ahead.”_

_“Are you close to Geralt?”_

_“I’m one of his advisors, yes.”_

_“We were wondering if you could put in a good word for us.”_

_“In exchange for what?”_

_“We’ll owe you one.”_

_“Owe me what, exactly?”_

_“We don’t have much power here, but you can use your favour with us for anything we can provide now and in the near future.”_

_“I’m an engineer, so if you need any tech fixed or destroyed you can count on me.”_

_“I’m a biotic, so if you need anything heavy lifted or anyone killed I can do that for you.”_

_“I’m a bit of both, but I specialize in defensive biotics and offensive tech. If you need a place to be able to withstand firepower for a few hours or anything to die in an explosion I’m your man.”_

_“Natalia there is an Infiltrator, so if you need a place scouted or anyone sniped up to a distance of 2000 meters she can help.”_

_“I see.”_

_“So, will you help us?”_

_“I’m afraid that Geralt will want to see your combat capabilities himself, but I can attempt to sway him if you’d like.”_

_“We’d appreciate it.”_

After that, they moved on to other matters. They asked Jaskier questions about Witchers, Kaer Morhen, and about Geralt himself. He seemed happy to answer their questions, and they answered his in return. About Reapers, their capabilities, and what brought them to Kaer Morhen in the first place.

_“We’re not entirely sure how we got here in the first place. We got caught up in an explosion, and the next thing we knew we were near a mountain fighting Reapers.”_

_“An explosion can do that?”_

_“If the explosion originated from Reaper tech, apparently so.”_

An afternoon passed by, and when Jaskier had to leave to eat dinner Alessia, Victoria, and Stephen discussed what they learned. Stephen seems to be making notes on his omni-tool, that Natalia made a mental note to have a look at later.

And so, a day passed by. A relatively peaceful day, one that they’re going to savour.

After fighting a war for 5 years, peace is a precious thing.


	4. Chapter 4

A few days later, they were back to the office they entered through not so long ago, along with the White Wolf’s council and Geralt himself. All of the closest Witchers and Sorceresses and a bard of the most feared warlord in the continent had their eyes on them.

If they hadn’t been fighting Reapers for 5 years, it might even have been intimidating.

As it is, they stand at ease in front of Geralt’s desk. In clothes that they were kind enough to lend, in muted greens and browns, soft and handmade. Even their shoes are as supple as leather could get.

It makes them all wonder if the warlord is attempting to bribe them for something.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here?”

“Yennefer, right?”

“Yes, I am. And you’re Alessia Stancati, correct?”

“Indeed. We have a few guesses as to why you called us here, but why don’t you tell us so that there isn’t any miscommunication between all of us?”

The smirk on the purple eyed, dark haired woman is noticeable, and faintly amused. Nevertheless, she does explain.

“As I’m sure you know, Jaskier told us about you 4. We called you here to clear up a few things.”

“Such as?”

“The monsters you fought. We wish to learn more about them.”

“Why? Is there more of them here?”

“No, but if you could make your way here, who’s to say that they can’t?”

“The Reapers don’t harvest pre-spaceflight civilizations. You have nothing to fear.”

While keeping silent so far, Geralt’s eyebrow raises at that, though they can’t entirely tell whether he’s affronted, confused, or curious. It’s possible it was all 3.

Victoria’s answering smirk is razor sharp, before she says, “What Alessia means is that until you and your entire species can manage to leave this monster-infested rock, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Yennefer’s voice is droll. “ _My entire species?_ How very specific.”

“If you wish to trade information, we can. In exchange, we wish to have access to your library in return.”

“Done.”

It was Alessia’s turn to raise a brow at Geralt, disbelief clear on her face and voice. “So easily?”

“Seems fair.”

“Wait, Stephen, can you read Polish?”

“Not anymore.”

“We may need someone to translate your writing then.”

“I can assist with that.”

“Thank you Jaskier. We appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be spending quite a bit of time with you N7s at any rate, may as well help you in the process.”

“Oh? Aren’t you worried that we’ll use the information we find against you?”

“That’s another thing we need to speak to you about.”

“What about?”

“We’d like to offer you positions here in Kaer Morhen.”

“...Positions such as?”

“I’ve seen the 4 of you in battle.” Eskel interjects, “I’d think you would be a good fit in the vanguard.”

“As what? Do you want us as scouts, in the light cavalry, or as part of the infantry?”

“Depends. Which role would you fit in?”

“That depends on who you ask. We assume that Jaskier told you about what kind of skills we have?”

“He has, but for all his knowledge, he doesn’t have any experience on the battlefield.”

“So you want to see our capabilities yourselves then?”

“Yes.”

“When? And how?”

“They need to show their skills to the rest of the army before they’ll be accepted. Maybe an exhibition match in a few days? Or a spar between a team of Witchers and the N7s?”

“Give us a few hours and we’ll be ready for anything you can throw at us.”

“Only a few hours? You don’t need more time?”

“No.”

“Such confidence! What do you think, Geralt?”

Geralt frowned, then says, “Will you be ready in 3 hours then?”

“Yes.”

“This afternoon, in the courtyard. Eskel, Lambert, and I will fight all of you in front of the entire army. First blood, use whatever skills you have. If the 4 of you can incapacitate or immobilize all of us, you win.”

“In exchange, you can also use whatever skills and weapons you have, correct?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“No offence, but unless you want to die, we cannot fight you. There’s no such thing as an exhibition match with the weapons and skills we have.”

“Where did your confidence go, I wonder?”

“Nowhere. I’m just aware enough of our skill to know that we will utterly destroy all of you.”

At that, all 4 of them give feral grins that are more a baring of teeth than a smile. Geralt eyes them cautiously, while Vesemir shook his head, and Eskel just looks contemplatively at them all. Yennefer and Triss exchange a look, but say nothing out loud. Once again, it’s Jaskier that speaks. “How about a hunt then?”

“A hunt?”

“You can show off your skill by hunting down game, and Geralt and a representative from each Witcher school will go with you. To supervise, and to judge you for themselves.”

“That sounds reasonable. We accept.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Apparently, hunting amongst the Witchers means hiking up the mountains and looking for something to shoot. Or kill with whichever weapon they have on hand. Mostly animals like deer or boars, but according to Lambert, Jaskier had the unfortunate luck of finding a wyvern once.

Alessia is dying of laughter as she and her team return to Kaer Morhen, and Lambert is clearly enjoying her reaction if his rather large smirk is any indication. The rest of the Witchers are following close behind, three of them carrying a deer and Geralt himself had a boar across his shoulders.

The sun is setting behind the mountains as they return, the sky strewn with oranges, pinks, and purples. The wind is picking up, getting colder the darker the sky turns.

“We’re here.”

At the foot of the large iron-barred gates stood the hunting party, and only then does Alessia manage to get her laughter under control. Wiping tears from her face, she says, “Hah... Oh man, that’s hilarious. Thanks for that Lambert, I needed a laugh.”

“I’ve got more, if you ever want to hear them.”

“Of course I do!”

“Demolisher, we need to debrief.”

“Yeah, I know. See you later.”

“Bye.”

The Witchers bring the game into Kaer Morhen, and pass it along to the kitchen staff to cook for tonight’s meal. Afterwards, Geralt motions his men to his office. They follow close behind, and close the door carefully to make sure no one overhears them.

“Thoughts?”

“Those guns of theirs... Is there any way for us to replicate them?”

“If there is, I haven’t heard of it.”

“You want a gun, Varin?”

“You did see how far that Shadow of theirs shot, didn’t you?”

“More than a thousand paces, yes I saw. I was right there with you.”

“If we had a weapon like that, we could finish wars faster.”

“And farther away. If we can get them to tell us how their weapons were made, that would be an incredible boon.”

“Trading information between us is part of the agreement.”

“In return, they want access to Kaer Morhen’s library.”

“Sounds reasonable.“

“So you want to recruit them, White Wolf?”

“Yes.”

“I think they’d be useful in the vanguard.”

“Shadow would be a good scout.”

“Demolisher would fit well with the sappers.”

”What about Paladin? His skills are very similar to a mage, except for his gigantic orange shield.”

”Why not ask him what he wants? I’m sure he’d be able to give good advice, since he and his entire team have been in a military for at least 5 years.”

“Should we call them here then?”

“Does that mean all of you approve of them joining us?”

“Yes.”

Eskel nodded at Varin, who left to bring in the N7s back to the office.

~*~

Once again, the 4 of them are in Geralt’s office. Although this time it seems that he has invited the same people that watched them hunt into the meeting, along with his typical inner council. Jaskier, in particular, seems to be in a good mood. He smiles and waves at them as they enter.

They smile back, but only stand in front of Geralt’s desk.

“So? What’s the verdict?”

“Will we be joining your army?”

“Yes.”

Eskel raises his head to make eye contact with Stephen. “I’ll talk to you later about your position in the army, but for now rest for a few days. There will be plenty of time for that.”

“And what will we do in the meantime?”

“Whatever you like.”

“So long as we stay within the fortress?”

The flat look Eskel threw at Paladin was unamused, to say the least. “You’re not prisoners here, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“No, of course not. It’s just...”

“As homey as your fortress is, we have a few things we’d like to have to be comfortable in our down time.”

“Such as...?”

“Just a few items, like a canvas and some paints.”

“A shooting range.”

“A workshop.”

“I’d be happy with getting to explore the area, honestly.”

“We do have a few rooms that can be converted to a workshop if you wish.”

“As for a shooting range... What, exactly, is it?”

“It’s just a bit of land that we can practice shooting our guns in.”

“Preferably away from the fortress, so that no one accidentally walks into the firing lane and if our shots ricochet no one gets hurt.”

“We’ll have to see about finding space for your range, but the canvas and paints we can provide.”

“Fury, you can explore the area as you wish, so long as you bring a Witcher with you.”

“Please, call me Victoria Potsdam. Or Vicky. Fury is when I’m all kitted out to fight.”

That seemed to be something of a signal, as the rest of the team introduced themselves to everyone else in the room.

“Call me Stephen Rogerson, Paladin when I’ve got the armour on.”

“I’m sure you know who I am, but for anyone that wasn’t here, I’m Alessia Stancati. Demolisher is just my sobriquet.”

“Name’s Natalia Rosanova. Shadow when working.”

“Together, we’re the N7s. I do hope we can get along well enough to work together.”

The 4 of them bowed in sync, which was slightly odd to watch.

“Welcome to the White Wolf’s army, N7s. Glad to have you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Alessia is many things. A soldier, an inventor, an adult, and a _damned_ good shot.

She is _not_ , however, a scholar. She’s literate, sure. But she’s never been the type to learn best through reading a book. She prefers to dig into a problem with her bare hands, to manipulate it to her liking with no regards to what’s considered the proper way to fix it.

So having to read hand written manuscripts in the White Wolf’s library isn’t exactly her idea of a fun time.

“Vicky, _why_ am I here?”

“Because Stephen is busy translating other books with Jaskier’s help, Natalia is standing guard, and you’re still waiting for your workshop to be built. I need help with these manuscripts and unless you can give me a valid reason for not wanting to peruse the library, you’ll at least skim through them.”

“Can’t we just upload the information in these manuscripts onto our omni-tools?”

“Converting these manuscripts into a digital format would require a scanner that can handle parchment and vellum. I don’t know about your omni-tool, but mine doesn’t function in such a capacity.”

“We could just take pictures.”

“You _could_ , but do you have any guarantee that the pictures will be legible? Jaskier’s writing is lovely, but it’s also small and cramped. Probably to make the most of the space. We don’t know how lightfast the ink is, so exposing it to sunlight is a gamble at best. And unless you can buy more candles, you’ll be taking pictures in dim lighting.”

“Fine, no pictures. But can I at least makes notes on my tool?”

“Go ahead.”

The manuscripts aren’t actually that bad, it’s definitely informative. But a lot of it seems to expect their reader to have a certain amount of context to draw from, either geographical in nature, or societal. Where to find this or that specific type of monster, and the kind of reaction one can expect from the local populace if they find its nest. Whether or not the monster hunts in packs, or are solitary in nature. The anatomy of the monsters are described in excruciating detail, as well as it’s myriad uses in alchemy. All interesting, useful information, and yet it still feels like slogging through mud in a swamp to read.

“Ugh. Who wrote this shit? It’s even less interesting to read than the manuals for our guns.”

“The author’s name is on the front page, Alessia.”

“I still think that a name like Arkadiusz Jedynak has way too many consonants.”

“I doubt that really changes the relevance of the contents.”

“Well no, but still!”

A chuckle on the other side of the library brings them up short. Stephen is smirking while he says, “Is it _really_ his name you’re complaining about, or his writing?”

Alessia shrugs, and answers, “Who says it can’t be both?”

Jaskier pipes up. “Jedynak isn’t well known for being a compelling writer, but he is known for the accuracy of his observations.”

“Is he really?”

“Well, that’s what he’s known for amongst the Witchers of Kaer Morhen at least.”

“What is he known for outside Kaer Morhen then?”

“He’s not well known at all.”

“There you go then.”

“However famous he may not be, we still need the information he’s written down. I still need your help, and until you get a workshop you’re on an information gathering mission with me.”

“Reconnaissance is not my forte.”

“Same, but it still needs to be done.”

“Oh _fine_.”

Hours of reading were spent reading manuscripts in the library, between Alessia and Victoria they were able to read about a third of the manuscripts written by Jaskier and Stephen. Which is about 7 of currently 21 books, though by the looks of it, Stephen and Jaskier are writing even more manuscripts still so that number will likely change.

Alessia sighs quietly, before tapping a few more notes on her tool about native monsters in the continent. Victoria, on the other hand, is using analog tools. An actual dip pen, an ink pot, and parchment for her notes. She uses it with ease that Alessia wouldn’t have guessed she’d have.

Of all the new things she’s learnt today, knowing that Victoria Potsdam is something of a stationery connoisseur isn’t what she’d expect.

Well, if nothing else, that will probably be a useful skill to have. Maybe she’ll ask for some tips later.


	7. Chapter 7

Jaskier is finding the N7s to be a rather eclectic group, at least so far as his time with them has shown.

Stephen Rogerson is surprisingly cultured, for such a rugged man. He’s blond and blue eyed, and wears only trousers, a shirt and boots, ‘the comfiest clothes he can find,’ as he puts it. He speaks at least 2 languages, critiques the art they find on the books, has an expertise with technology the likes of which Jaskier has never seen before, and a rather dry sense of humour.

Victoria Potsdam, on the other hand, is rough around the edges, but she also carries around high quality ink pots along with the stationery in her bag and has very crisp handwriting. She has strawberry blonde hair put up in a long braid and hazel eyes. She wears a leather jacket and a sundress along with black boots laced up and never goes anywhere without her dark brown handbag.

Alessia Stancati is the only one in the group that knows how to curtsy, but she also swears like Lambert and has a tendency to using her ‘omni-tool,’ that strange bright orange vambrace all 4 of them have. She has black hair and eyes, wears a scandalously short skirt, a white frilly shirt, and a smart jacket with pockets.

Natalia, on the other hand, is only slightly more verbose than Aubry and just as imposing. Her being taller than Geralt helps, as does her rather peculiar fashion sense. So many gears and belts! She has dark red hair and green eyes, all the more striking in its rarity.

“—Jaskier!”

“Hmm, what? Sorry, I was just wool gathering. Did you need something?”

“I’ve finished transcribing the chapter.”

“So you have! Let me see here...”

He took the manuscript from Stephen, and riffles through the pages. The transcript is well done, though it seems that he took some liberties with the format of the text. Instead of having the paragraphs fill the pages, he makes a new indentation for each one. The changes are small but noticeable, even written in a language he doesn’t recognize. The tools he’s using may be one of the reasons as to why.

His writing implement is a curious tool, a ‘fountain pen’ he calls it. Painted in black, with black ink, it fits well in hand and writes smoothly. Somehow, he doesn’t need to dip his pen in the inkwell. It has ink inside! Very convenient, especially compared to the quills they have on hand. He’ll have to ask if they have any he can borrow for his own use.

Stephen has very neat writing, though of course that means he takes his time. His writing reminds Jaskier of the printer machines that would be used in Oxenfurt, all thick and thin lines written on a barely visible graph he drew on the paper. It feels as though he’s basing his work on something that wasn’t made by hand.

“Well done, this looks good so far. I can’t read the translation, but it seems legible.”

“Thank you, I try.”

“Hey Stephen, it’s dinner time. Let’s go eat!”

“Just a minute!”

He turns to Jaskier, “You’ll be busy in the evening, right?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if you have any spare time in the next week or so? I know you’re busy in the mornings, teaching the Princess Ciri, so maybe in the afternoon?”

“I didn’t hear an answer to my question in that.”

“We’d like to ask a few more questions about Kaer Morhen, if you’re not busy.”

“I’d be happy to. How about next Tuesday afternoon? I’m free then.”

“Perfect! See you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “scandalously short skirt” ends at just above the knees, fyi
> 
> I don’t know the continent as well as I’d like, but based on how much is covered by the clothes the women wear in the Witcher games I’m thinking that Jaskier might consider a pencil skirt terribly racy in comparison


	8. Chapter 8

Even with everything that’s happened, Stephen can only be relieved that he and his team have survived the Reaper War.

Yes, they’ve somehow ended up in a pre-spaceflight civilization. Yes, he owes his life to a stranger and her ungodly handsome leader. Yes, he’ll probably never be able to go back to Earth.

But despite that, he and his team are all alive and in one piece. They’ve managed to find employment with said leader, and a roof over their heads to go along with it. The people they are surrounded by all seem impressed with their skills, well enough that they’d offered employment based on their evaluations.

Given how badly the Reaper War had taken its toll on all of them for 5 years, he can’t possibly think of a better way to escape it than this.

“You’ve been wanting to escape from a war?”

He can’t help but jump at the sound of Yennefer’s voice, but he does answer. “Yes, I have. Wait, how did you–“

“I’m a sorceress of no small talent, Rogerson. Mind reading is just one of them.”

“...Right, that’s not creepy at all or anything.”

Her answering smile is wry. “Many people tend to think the same.”

Movement out the window caught his eye before he could answer that, and the disbelief on his voice is evident when he asks, “Is that Geralt?”

“What?” Yennefer follows his line of sight, just to catch the back of Geralt’s armour running up the mountain like he’s being hunted up the slope.

“... I’m guessing that’s not normal?”

“No...no, it isn’t. Excuse me, I think I need to go speak with Eskel.”

“I’ll see you later then.”

“Of course.”

~*~

That day, lunch was a rowdy affair, as it tends to be in Kaer Morhen. All 4 of them sit on a table hidden in a far corner of the mess hall. They don’t entirely feel comfortable sitting with the Witchers, but they don’t want to get in the way of the cooks and servants in the kitchen. It’s only because Victoria decides to add to the hubbub that makes a change to the routine. “Hey, hey! Did ya hear?”

The disinterest in Stephen’s voice couldn’t be more blatant if he tried. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell us anyway.”

“Jaskier told me that there are going to be noblewomen visiting to try for Geralt’s hand!”

Natalia, who had been silently eating just a moment ago, interjected, “Oh?” She was clearly intrigued by the idea.

“Wait, is that why I saw him running like the hounds of hell were chasing him up the mountain?”

“Seems to be the case, yeah.”

“He’s effectively Genghis Khan at this point, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he have expected something like this to happen?”

“According to my research, Witchers were reviled as being little better than the monsters they hunt before he carved out much of the North as his. So being the target of power hungry women that want to be his wife is probably not something he’d ever expected to deal with.”

“Hoo boy, this is going to be an experience, isn’t it?”

“Sounds fun. Or funny. Maybe both?”

“I suppose we’ll find out when the noblewomen get here.”

“Security risk.”

“What do you mean, Natalia?”

“Visiting outsiders are a security risk.”

“That’s true, we should bring it up to them.”

“If you do, you’ll probably be volunteering yourself as their guard.”

Stephen’s facial expressionis almost appalled as he replies, “Not just me, it’ll have be all of us. I certainly can’t do it alone.”

“Who would be stupid enough to try anything against an entire fortress of Witchers though?”

“A noble’s retinue is the perfect place for an assassin to hide.”

“Especially if it’s going to be as big as I’d expect.”

“We could recommend that they shave down the number of followers with the nobles.”

“Down to half maybe?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“That settles it then. After lunch, we’ll talk to Eskel about volunteering to be the noble’s guards.”

“After we eat lunch.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jaskier and Yennefer both throw themselves into planning out the occasion with unholy glee, and Victoria leaves them to it. The Witchers, surprisingly, aren’t interested in the affair, leaving it up to the 2 of them. Stephen brought up that he and his team would be glad to greet the noblewomen in their armour at the gates, pointing out that, “Our armour was designed specifically to intimidate. If you want them to be scared having us meet them first would be a good start.”

Clearly, Jaskier agreed, and so all 4 of them are standing at the gates with their weapons out waiting for the nobles to arrive. The Witchers accompanying them to Kaer Morhen sent a xenovox message saying that they’ll be arriving today, but they haven’t seen hide not hair of them yet.

“5 bucks says that one of the visitors will shit their pants when they get here.”

“10 bucks for one of them pissing themselves.”

“Put me down for 15 for the chance of one of them pissing and shitting themselves.”

“Incoming.”

All of them snap to attention as the consort-hopefuls climb up the mountain, in very impractical and lovely dresses. It makes Victoria very thankful that her armour has insulation against the cold, especially in this weather. The Witchers that follow them seemed somewhat surprised to see the N7s, though they don’t say anything out loud. The looks on their faces are eloquent enough.

“Welcome to Kaer Morhen, visitors. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Who—who are you?”

“We’re the N7s, and we’ll be your escorts and bodyguards until you leave Kaer Morhen.”

“En-7s?”

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. Let’s get out from the cold, eh?”

Victoria isn’t entirely sure that the teeth-chattering and shivers were only because of the cold, but she kept her thoughts to herself. One woman, with the most intricately braided brown hair she’s ever seen and a delicately embroidered dress to match, stands tall and considers them carefully.

“Who do you serve?”

“The White Wolf, who is also expecting you. Please, right this way.”

The 4 of them surround the women and their entourage, a lady-in-waiting and 2 guards, who have their hands on their sheathed swords and watch them warily. None of them actually take their weapons out, though it was clear that they dearly wanted to. They walk into the dimly lit hall, and she notes that she can see eyes staring at her from the shadows. It seems the cat eyes aren’t just for show, they actually reflect light and probably gives them good night vision.

Still somewhat unsettling to see light reflect out of human eyes though.

Amusingly, Jaskier has managed to convince Geralt and Eskel to wear their darker and spikier armour. He himself wears a gold doublet and pants with an unsettling grin on his face, but everyone else is wearing black and frowning down at the visitors from the dais. It would be intimidating, if Victoria had been a visitor herself and hadn’t fought the Reapers for the past 5 years.

As it is, it makes her grin inwardly. Look at these pre-spaceflight civvies trying to be scary, dressed up in black and spikes. Isn’t it cute?

She knows that no one can see her expression through her mask, but the narrowed eyes of Eskel and a few of the eyes watching from the shadows makes her think that some of them can tell she’s amused. Jaskier and the Wolf’s advisors, at the very least, knows that they don’t find them intimidating at all. They all told him as much in the meeting they had weeks ago.

“After everything we’ve been through, it’ll take more than that to scare us.”

Eskel is the one that welcomes them, for a given value of welcoming that is. “You may present yourself to the Wolf, and state your business in Kaer Morhen.”

Individually, they introduce themselves to the White Wolf. One of them is apparently an actual, honest to God princess. Princess Agata of Temeria, if Victoria heard her introduction right. The woman that questioned them on who they serve. She’s also the one that explains why they’re all here in the first place. “We have come to Kaer Morhen in the hopes that the Warlord may, in his wisdom, be wiling to consider us as candidates to become his consort.”

Eskel hums, before he answers back, “Very well. We will provide you with the list of requirements that any candidate for the position must fulfill. You may have a month’s grace to consider them. If you can’t fulfill them, the N7s will escort you to the border of the White Wolf’s lands.”

A month should be plenty of time, really. If this had been on Earth, they would’ve probably been given less than half that time.

Of course, back on Earth nobles and their like are considered remnants of a bygone age. So it’s rather unlikely that a situation like this would’ve happened in recent memory. Much less that the Alliance would bother to send representatives to such an occasion.

Geralt’s elder Witcher advisor, Vesemir, gestures and the other Witchers come into view out of the shadows. The N7s are the only ones not to flinch at the sight.

In fact, Shadow is somewhat amused by their theatrics. She gestures with her head at Demolisher, who only shakes her head in return. They’ll probably have an entire conversation about this when they take a break from guard duty.

“They will show you to your rooms,” says the ancient Witcher. With a nod and a curtsy, they go to the wing set aside for their use. The N7s follow along at a sedate pace, weapons compact and clicking into place at their backs. The guards stare at their weapons, but follow along beside their charges.

At the entrance of their wing, Shadow and Demolisher both stand guard. Paladin and Fury nod to them before taking a break back at their quarters, since in 2 hours supper will be served and afterwards will be their turn on guard duty.

“How long do you think they’ll last?”

“Doubt they’ll last longer than 3 weeks.”

“10 bucks for all of them leaving in 2.”

“You’re on.”


	10. Chapter 10

Supper is a somewhat awkward affair that night, what with the newest additions to the tables. A specific table was brought out for the noblewomen and their ladies-in-waiting, while the guards have joined the N7s at theirs. They spoke to their fellow guards rather than to the N7s, but they expected that. Instead, they cheerfully interact with each other in English to ensure some privacy.

[“So? Who won the bet?”]

[“None of us. Apparently they were too cold to worry about pissing or shitting.”]

[“Aw. Oh well.”]

[“Stephen and I did bet on how long they’ll all stay though. He bets that they’d only last for 3 weeks. I bet $10 for 2.”]

[“Put me down for $15 for the entire month.”]

[“$20 for a single week for me.”]

The guards gave them strange looks as they listened to them speak. Confusion laced with suspicion, though thankfully they haven’t done anything other than looking. As it is, they ignore each other entirely and try to focus on their own people and food.

[“Looks like Ciri is fascinated by the nobles.”]

[“From what Jaskier tells me, nobles rarely visit Kaer Morhen. My guess is that this is the first time she’s ever seen so many of their women.”]

[“She’s probably fascinated by the fancy clothes. Not that I blame her, I would be in her shoes.”]

[“Looks like Jaskier is singing tonight.”]

Listening to Jaskier singing is always a delight, especially when you can tell that he’s enjoying himself. Tonight is apparently a night for comedy, or at least light-hearted songs, as he sings to a receptive audience The Skelliger. 


	11. Chapter 11

The next day was a busy one, as Yennefer announces at breakfast to the noblewomen that they’re invited to hunt with the White Wolf and his Witchers. At first they seemed to look forward to it, until they learn that they aren’t bringing their horses with them and that they’re expected to climb the mountain by foot.

Paladin and Fury are both regretting volunteering their services as bodyguards to the noblewomen, who haven’t stopped complaining about everything including the sun ever since they left Kaer Morhen. They complain about how bright the sun is, the hike, the animals being so elusive, the rocks and roots they keep tripping over, not to mention how much pain their feet are in. The only comfort they can take out of the entire situation is that the Witchers are also suffering alongside them. Only 1 woman isn’t complaining, a pretty young thing that introduced herself as Milena de Roggeven who came as her older sister’s lady-in-waiting. She is, in fact, enjoying being carried by Lambert while having a conversation with him down the slope back to the fortress.

“Fucking ridiculous shoes to wear on a hunt. What the hell are these, slippers? Why are they wearing slippers for fuck’s sake?”

“We hadn’t thought that we would be hiking up a mountain.”

“Where the fuck did you people think you were going, someone’s bedroom?”

“I can think of a few people that are.”

[“Fury!”]

[“What?”]

[“Insinuations about our employers shouldn’t be said near outsiders!”]

[“Ah. Oops.”]

Lambert and Milena stared at the N7s as they spoke a language that they’d never heard of before.

“What are they saying?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Have you ever heard that language before?”

“Only the N7s speak it, far as I can tell.”

“Really?”

“We’re back.”

The large iron-barred gates of Kaer Morhen looms over them, and Demolisher and Shadow awaits. Their guns are on their backs, though they still surround the Witchers carrying the noblewomen.

“Good hunting?”

Geralt shrugs around the elk carcass he’s carrying. “Could’ve been better, honestly.”

“You have 2 people carrying deer cadavers over their shoulders, White Wolf.”

“You were able to track down 3 deers and a boar.”

“Don’t compare us to civilians, sir. We’ve had years of training. They don’t.”

“Hmm.”

“Everyone carrying a noblewoman, please follow us.”

The N7s corral the noblewomen and Witchers to their suite, but not before everyone sees Jaskier staking his claim on the White Wolf. Fury couldn’t resist wolf whistling at the two of them. Demolisher pointedly hits the back of her hood in response.

Before they could leave however, Yennefer claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Kaer Morhen is lucky enough to have hot springs to bathe in! Do please join us there before supper!”

[“Goddamn it.”]

[“What is it?”]

[“That means we’ll have to stand guard at the hot springs. I don’t trust these people enough to get naked with them.”]

[“Damn, your right. I was really looking forward to resting after that hunt.”]

[“Don’t worry, we’ll be the ones on guard, you two get some rest.”]

[“Demolisher? Shadow? Are you sure?”]

[“We’re sure.”]

[“Thanks man!”]

[“No problem.”]

Geralt and one of his other Witchers carrying a deer, handed the corpse to their kitchen staff, while the rest of them scattered if they weren’t carrying a noblewoman. Eskel joins him and Jaskier, having a conversation about how Geralt took down the elk with his knife.

Fury only partially pays attention, as she’s somewhat tired from the hunt. She does her best not to show her fatigue, but she has a feeling that Demolisher can tell. The hit from earlier was all sound, very little force. More of a slap than a hit.

She always was a bit of a mother hen.


	12. Chapter 12

Demolisher and Shadow are standing in their armour just inside the hot springs at parade rest. They both watch the expressions of the noblewomen change from shock to horror in interest. Clearly, the ease that the Witchers have of being in the nude doesn’t extend to the nobility of this world, or at least not with the noblewomen that has come to visit.

Literally everyone else is as naked as the day they were born, including Stephen and Victoria. Both of whom are both walking towards one of the slightly warm pools, rather than the scalding hot ones that the Witchers prefer. No one gave them so much as a glance when the noblewomen were so kind as to provide entertainment.

Yennefer is smiling at the noblewomen as she speaks to them, “You’ll want to use the pools below this one. The ones the Witchers use are far too hot for humans.”

[“Understatement.”]

[“I’m pretty sure that only Drell would be as comfortable as the Witchers in those pools.”]

“Are there no private pools?!” Princess Agata demands shrilly, “Surely the Warlord does not use the common baths -“

The White Wolf decided that to be the perfect time to walk past completely buck naked by the horrified noblewomen and straight into the water, Eskel following right behind him in all his glory. Jaskier shakes his head as the noblewomen squeak and gasp in response, and follows the men into the water.

Taking pity on the clearly uncomfortable noblewomen, Demolisher steps up. “Shadow and I can cover whichever pool you wish to use if you like.”

Princess Agata squints at her suspiciously. “Why would you do that for us?”

“You seem distressed. I can see that you prefer your privacy. I can make a screen that will cover all of you from prying eyes if you wish.”

Reluctantly, they take her up on her offer, and Demolisher makes an improvised screen from some towels, some rope, and a few coat hangers they found lying around to give them an illusion of privacy. The noblewomen seem relieved as they enter the covered pool, though the wolves stare at the odd jury rigged furniture in confusion.

“Why the fuck did you make that shit?!”

“Because not everyone likes to walk around naked, Lambert!”

“You didn’t care about that yesterday.”

“And I still don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just leave them hanging.”

Yennefer enters the pool with Geralt, Eskel, and Jaskier unfazed and confident in her nude body. “Poor darlings, I don’t think Kaer Morhen is agreeing with them.”

“You are a startlingly vicious woman and I never wish to become your enemy,” said Jaskier as he cleans Geralt’s hair of all the blood.

“You’re just as vicious, little flower. You just hide it better.”

“Maybe so.” Once he finished with cleaning Geralt’s hair, he turns to Demolisher and Shadow. “Are you comfortable in your armour, here of all places?”

“Our armour have a temperature control suite, so that we can withstand any temperature extreme on both sides of the scale. We’re plenty comfortable, thank you.”

“Oh? That sounds convenient.”

“It’s finicky as hell and I get warnings about how damned cold it is here all the fucking time. But it keeps me from getting too hot or cold no matter the weather, so I’ll just have to put up with it.”

“I can shut off the cold weather alerts if you want!” Calls Stephen from the other side of the hot springs.

Slowly, and incredulously, Demolisher turns towards him. “...Why the shit didn’t you tell me that before now?!”

“You never complained about it before!”

“Oh fuck you too, asshole!”

“Chatter.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll shut up. Damned bastard son of a...”

Laughter echoed in the hot springs at Demolisher’s expense, who seems to be too preoccupied crossing her arms and swearing under her breath to really notice. Shadow shakes her head as she stands at the noblewomen’s pool as a silent guard.

Lambert gripes, “Fucking nobles. Buttercup, you lucky fucker, you didn’t have to hear them whining the whole way up and down the mountain.”

Jaskier laughs at him in response. “You _volunteered_.”

“Yeah, well, catch me being that stupid again.” Lambert grumbles.

“Amen, brother!” It was Victoria this time that reacts, raising a fist in solidarity.

Lambert thoughtfully adds, “Though I guess Milena’s not that bad.”

“Oh?” Eskel asks while sharing a look with Jaskier.

“She’s funny, and not as scared of us as the rest of the noble idiots are.”

Victoria shouts in response, “The two of you sure looked cozy talking about slippers!”

“Fuck off!”

Victoria’s laughter echoed loudly.

“I’m glad you found a friend, other than Alessia. You could use a friend that swears a bit less.” Jaskier was careful to keep any humour out of his voice.

Demolisher clearly takes umbrage at that. “I’m right here!”

“So you are.”

Lambert grimaces, but doesn’t object.

“How many do you think we’ll lose tomorrow?” Eskel asks Yennefer.

She hums, “At least 3, possibly 4. From what I heard, almost half only came here on their father’s orders. They’ll leave as soon as they possibly can. The other half...truly want to be Consort of the Warlord of the North. If that means putting up with Geralt and Kaer Morhen, they’ll do it.”

“Geralt’s not someone to put up with, he’s someone to fucking cherish.”

Kissing noises could be heard from Jaskier and Geralt’s direction.

Victoria wolf whistles at the two of them again. A wet smack could be heard right afterwards.

“Ow!”

“Stop wolf whistling at our boss!”

“No promises!”

Ignoring them entirely, Lambert complains, “Ugh, buttercup, be sappy somewhere else.” He half-heartedly splashes a bit of water at Jaskier’s general direction.

“I shall be sappy all over this damned keep if I like,” Jaskier haughtily answers. “Bard’s privilege. We get to be as dramatic as we please.”

Yen only chuckles, and Eskel shakes his head at them both.

Demolisher finds them all very entertaining, and vows to find some sort of way to record their interactions with each other somehow. The headset in her helmet is specifically for communication between the team, and her omni-tools are too specialized for combat to be useful as entertainment equipment.

Maybe she’ll invent photography for the people here. Though it may well end up being used in a completely different manner than she imagines, it would at the very least pass the time rather handily.

Once she has access to a workshop, that’s going to be the first priority.

After she can manage to get away from the library and Victoria perhaps.


	13. Chapter 13

The morning after, 4 women leave the fortress foot sore and irritable. Paladin and Fury accompany them as far as the base of the mountain, because the tiny damned trail leading up and down the slope is absolute murder on anyone that isn’t a Witcher. They may not care for the noblewomen, but they certainly don’t want them to split their skulls on the way down the mountain.

Demolisher and Shadow, on the other hand, follow the remaining consort-hopefuls still in the fortress to meet the sorceresses in their stillroom. Yennefer introduces Triss Merigold to the noblewomen, who Demolisher knows as the woman that saved Paladin’s life only a few weeks ago. The Princess Cirilla, or the little menace as most know her as in Kaer Morhen, is also introduced. All parties curtsy to each other in perfect courtesy, though not entirely sincerely.

Except for Jaskier, who accompanies the little menace and watches in blatant interest.

Demolisher can clearly see that Princess Agata is definitely not happy about being lower on the hierarchy than a child. She needs to keep an eye on Princess Agata, because she’s getting so many red flags from watching how she treats the people here. It’s only a matter of time before she decides to act on so much hatred, and Demolisher will be damned before she lets some soft spoiled noble get the upper hand on her.

Triss starts the occasion with a smile and says, “Welcome to my stillroom! As you’ve come here to become Geralt’s consort, I thought you’d be interested in the potions that enable the Witchers to perform feats of physical mastery!”

Before Princess Agata could object, Ciri hops onto a stool and begins chopping a bundle of herbs without hesitation or any instructions from Triss.

The rest of the consort-hopefuls could only stare in abject horror at the ingredients laid out for them on the tables. None of which Demolisher could identify, and based on the fact that many of them are making her nose itch even through the filter she’s almost entirely sure that a good number of them are actively corrosive if it makes contact to bare skin.

She doesn’t envy them in the least.

Chemistry has never been her strong suit.

Outside of her high school science lab, she’s never handled such dangerous materials without the thickest gloves she can get away with.

Nor does she want to.

She can see that the noblewomen are very much not enjoying assisting Triss in her work, and she honestly doesn’t blame them.

Instead, she stands back at the entrance with Shadow, keeping a close eye on the noblewomen and the sorceresses in the stillroom.

~*~

Supper that evening is a fun affair, what with Jaskier announcing after the meal is finished for most that it’s a lovely night for a dance, and Witchers cheer raucously in return. They clear out the tables to make the hall an impromptu dance floor, and many of them pick out dance partners amongst the other people helping with the tables. Likely friends or lovers, or at the very least someone they’re comfortable dancing with.

Some of the Witchers go up to the table for the noblewomen and jokingly ask them for a dance, which many of them are appalled by.

Milena, on the other hand, actually goes up and invites Lambert to dance. Victoria cackles in glee after hearing him squeak like a mouse found by a cat, but Alessia finds it charming. Tough, swearing, scarred warrior like Lambert flustered by a pretty young woman asking him for a dance? How sweet.

To try and stop Victoria’s laughter, Alessia drags her to the dance floor. Natalia leaves the hall to rest in her room, while Stephen stays in the shadows to chat with some of the Witchers who aren’t dancing.

A night of fun and a break from guard duty is just what they needed.

~*~


	14. Chapter 14

The next day, Eskel takes the noblewomen on a tour of Kaer Morhen at a steady clip. The nobles were huffing and puffing by the end of it, but the N7s were only slightly winded, having gone through worst at boot camp. Eskel eyed them with grudging respect, before he nods and leaves them with the nobles.

Fury and Demolisher are both on watch for the next 4 hours, and they both nod at Jaskier when he comes by to speak to Milena. After he leaves Milena at the door, he whistles cheerfully as he returns to his quarters.

[“Looks like he’s made a friend.”]

[“Good for him. You can never have too many friends.”]

[“Think Milena will stay?”]

[“Possibly. That’s really up to her, isn’t it?”]

[“True. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”]

~*~

5 hours later, a knock on the door of the office echoes and startles Eskel and Yennefer, who both look up just as Shadow enters the room. With her is Viscountess Anastazja de Brenna, who has her wrists held behind her back.

“Shadow? What’s going on?”

“Caught her sneaking out, with this.”

She holds up a bottle of red liquid into the light, and Yennefer’s expression darkens.

“She was going to use a love potion? Let me guess, she was going to the kitchens?”

“No idea. Thought it was poison. Brought her here for _you_ to punish.”

Yennefer stands and circles the two of them with a thunderous expression on her face. Viscountess Anastaszja is shaking in Shadow’s grip, though whether it’s out of fear or indignation is anyone’s guess.

“Thank you for bringing her. I’ll make sure the love potion is disposed of properly.”

“Here, give her to me. I’ll escort her out of the keep.”

Shadow gives the viscountess’ wrists to Eskel, who carefully makes sure she doesn’t escape. She nods to him, gives the potion to Yennefer, then leaves the room. Once outside, she can only shake her head.

Fool woman, thinking she could sneak out of a room guarded by an infiltrator. If anyone’s going to be sneaking anywhere, it’ll be the operative named Shadow. Not a viscountess that’s probably never had to sneak out of her own room before, much less in a fortress full of Witchers.

She can’t imagine what, exactly, a love potion would actually do to Geralt, and by God she’s going to do her damnedest to make sure no one will be finding out without his full and explicit consent. She may have to live in a planet filled with monsters and magic now, but that kind of thing is something that only lovers should be experimenting with. Not near strangers with an agenda. Nothing good will come out of that.

She makes a note on her ’tool to ask Triss what a love potion is and its effects on people and Witchers. She also sends a memo to everyone on her team to watch out for red liquids in suspicious bottles being carried by the nobles, just in case anyone else is stupid enough to try this twice.

The rest of the night passes quietly and peacefully, with only the viscountess leaving being the most noteworthy event.

Thank God for small favours.


	15. Chapter 15

Stephen is the unfortunate one to find Jaskier’s bleeding self out in the hallway. Or maybe it’s fortunate for Jaskier, since he’s the combat medic on the team. Not that the rest of the team don’t know basic first aid, but Stephen is the one that would know what to do when someone got stabbed at the back of their abdomen.

“Alessia, call Victoria. She should still be with Natalia guarding the nobles. Send her with the message, Jaskier is bleeding out, to Geralt.”

“Right.”

“Also, put some pressure on his wound would you? I’m going to see if he needs medi-gel.”

The orange glow of two different omni-tools activating cast Jaskier in a warm light, though in this situation all it does is show how red the blood pooling around his body is. So far as he can tell, Jaskier’s lost a bit more than a pint of blood. Thankfully his throat was left alone, likely the perpetrator thought that a single stab wound would be enough.

Were they not here, it may well have been.

He had been laying on his face, but Stephen turns him on his back while scanning his body with his omni-tool. No pierced organs, and the airways are still intact. Given immediate medical attention, he should heal. Hopefully sending Victoria to Geralt will result in said medical attention.

“Vicky says she’s on her way now. She wants to know if there’s anything we know about who would possibly dare to stab the songbird that Geralt should hear?”

“The wound is recent, very recent. Whoever did this likely hasn’t even cleaned his blood off the weapon yet. Tell him to search for anyone that have bloodstains on their body.”

“Got it.”

Only a few moments later, heavy feet come stomping from the Great Hall.

“Jaskier?!”

It seems Eskel found them first.

“It’ll be alright, Eskel. The wound has been dressed and none of his organs were pierced. So long as he gets some rest, fluids, and immediate medical attention he’ll heal.”

“Did you see who did this?”

“No, sorry. But the wound is recent. It’s likely that the perpetrator is still nearby, and covered in his blood.”

Only moments after he’s finished saying that, a portal opens right in front of them. Triss and Yennefer come through, but not before Ciri sees Jaskier lying on the floor wounded. She keens before bursting into tears, and the sound echoes in the hallway before Yennefer closes the portal behind her. Tris has her hands glowing over Jaskier as soon as she comes through, brow knitted on her forehead.

“Who _dared_?” Snarls Yennefer, who looks ready to rip someone’s throat out with her teeth.

Geralt skids to a halt by the end of the hallway, close enough to see his beloved, bleeding out. He’s completely frozen, horrified by the scene. Not that they could blame him, it never gets easier to see a civilian badly injured in a place that they felt safe in. Especially if that specific civilian is your lover. He has two other Witchers with him, Aubry and Vesemir, both holding his arms to keep him upright. Victoria is standing just behind them, still suited. She keeps her distance, but she does speak up.

“Geralt has sent Witchers scouring the keep for the smell of Jaskier’s blood. I can also go if any of them need an extra hand?”

“No,” Eskel is the one that answers. “That won’t be necessary. Please, stay.”

“Understood.”

Finally, Geralt speaks. “Jaskier?” His voice is raspy, and quiet. Almost like he’s afraid of the answer but had to ask.

“He’ll live,” was Triss’ answer for him. Two words that bring such relief to Geralt that he staggers against Aubry. Aubry himself looks as relieved as the White Wolf, which is only to be expected. He’s a close friend of Jaskier’s after all. Vesemir’s scrunched brows relax, though otherwise his expression doesn’t change.

“Who put all this cloth inside his wound?”

“I did.” Stephen answered by her side. Having already guessed what she wants, he has his plastic gloves and forceps in hand.

“Take it out, I’m going to close his wound.”

“Sure.”

Carefully, Stephen takes out all the gauze he’d packed into Jaskier. Alessia keeps her omni-tool open and regularly scans the wound to make sure that it’s healing. Every 5 minutes she announces to everyone Jaskier’s condition, in as even a tone as she can keep. The hall is deathly quiet otherwise.

Yennefer adds her own magic to Triss, and they both glow as she heals him. Within a few minutes, Jaskier’s breathing slows down and colour returns to his face.

Geralt gingerly takes his lover into his arms, stares at him like he’s trying to memorize his face, before handing him over to Eskel.

“Guard him.”

Eskel nods, “With my life.”


	16. Chapter 16

Having brought Jaskier to Geralt’s room, and returning after finding out who stabbed Jaskier, Eskel and Ciri are both watching over him inside. Stephen decided to take watch out the door with Aubry. Alessia, on the other hand, decided to stay within the room with her omni-tool scanning Jaskier to keep an eye on his health.

“How is he?”

“Still recuperating. But based on how well he’s healing, he’ll be conscious soon.”

“How do you know?”

“Military-grade omni-tools have the more advanced scanning apps available in the galaxy. The one I’m using is keeping track of his vitals, heartbeat and such, which are strong. I’m not a doctor or healer, but I did learn First Aid, and from what I remember, these numbers look good.”

“Your....omni-tool can tell you that?”

“Yes. But it’s not the most specialized. This app can scan for heat, minerals, and noise but if I want more details I would need access to specialized equipment or get someone to hack into a tech company’s account.”

“Hack? Do you mean to break it?”

“What? Oh no, no, of course not. What I mean by hack is to gain illicit access into someone else’s computer or network.”

“Computer? Network?”

“...Oh, right, computers don’t exist here do they?”

“Not unless you can make one.”

“Stephen! Aren’t you supposed to be standing watch?”

“Natalia brought food and drinks.”

Stephen pointedly raises the tray he has in his hands, which has a bowl of soup, a plate of sliced apples, a pitcher of water, and some cups. He passes out some of the apple slices and a cup of water to everyone before putting down the tray on a wardrobe dresser next to the bed.

“Don’t forget to keep yourselves hydrated, and if you want a full meal, come down to the Great Hall. The soup is for Jaskier.”

“Thanks man.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Eskel watches as Alessia scarfs down her food and water, “Why are you in such a rush? He isn’t going anywhere.”

“I know,” she mumbles around her apple slices, “but I’d rather not miss anything.”

“What makes you think you’ll miss something?”

“Just a feeling, is all.”

It’s then that Jaskier finally wakes up, and Eskel gives him a bit of water to drink. His eyes are clear, though slightly confused, and his scent is mostly confusion and worry and only faintly of pain. He smiles at Eskel, and the trust in his eyes is a heady thing. As if he believes that whatever might happen, so long as Eskel is there nothing could go far wrong.

He’s also lightly tapping his fingers on the bedside, a small fidget really. Almost unnoticeable, if he hadn’t been completely still not too long ago. It’s a relief to see, it almost brings him to tears.

He doesn’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

Alessia hands the cup of water to Eskel before speaking up, “Good to see you awake, Jaskier.”

“Hello Alessia. Were you the one that found me?”

“It was Stephen actually, though I was with him at the time.”

“She called Victoria, who went straight to Geralt to tell him you were ‘bleeding out,’ I believe was the exact words.”

“Your Triss is a very good healer. She healed you in minutes what would’ve taken possibly hours to regulate without magic.”

“I was injured?”

“You were stabbed in the back, my friend. The wound was deep, but thankfully they didn’t hit your organs. You should be fine after a bit of rest.”

“That’s good to hear. Where is Geralt?”

“Scaring the ever-living daylights out of the King of Temeria, and probably everyone unlucky enough to be at court with him.”

“... Why?”

“His daughter, the Princess Agata, was the one that stabbed you.”

“Ah. So I take it she’s alive still?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I still think that she should’ve been incarcerated at the very least.”

“And I keep telling you, we have nowhere to put her.”

“A bigass fortress in the middle of a mountain range like this not having a jail? I don’t buy it.”

Before the argument could devolve further, Jaskier inquires, “The rest of the ladies?”

“Leaving tomorrow, if I’ve anything to say about it, which I do,” Eskel growls. “They’re one and all terrified of us anyhow; another week won’t solve that. There’s no way any of them could ever hope to be the Warlord’s Consort. Fuck this charade.”

Jaskier nods, before blurting out, “Milena de Roggeven.”

“Your new friend?”

“What about her?”

“Have her swear loyalty to the Wolf, and if she can, let her stay... I think she will.”

“Huh,” Eskel says, frowning a little. “She doesn’t smell half as scared as the rest of them, come to think of it. And I don’t think she’s after Geralt.”

“No,” Jaskier says with a cheeky grin. “She knows he’s all mine.”

“As far as we can tell, she seems like good people. The friendship between the two of them seem genuine.” Alessia adds her two cents, though how much of a difference it makes in his decision is debatable at best.

Eskel hums, “I’ll give her a chance then, and if she can swear loyalty I’ll say you vouched for her and she can stay.”

“Thank you...”

Jaskier yawns, and Alessia fusses over him. “You need to rest, your body still needs to recover all the blood you’ve lost.”

Eskel only hears another yawn as he leaves the room. Now that he’s seen for himself that Jaskier is well, he has duties to attend to.

Someone has to keep the place intact for Geralt to return to.


	17. Chapter 17

Days pass, as they are wont to do.

Stephen feels it only right that he be given punishment for failing in his duty to protect Jaskier from an assassin in their midst. Despite the fact that had he not found Jaskier, he would be dead, he still feels _incredibly_ guilty.

As a compromise, Stephen has been assigned to assist the servants with cleaning the castle, the privies and chamberpotsspecifically, for 2 weeks. The rest of the team assist as well, as something of a bonding experience and to deal with the fact that they too feel a bit guilty about Jaskier getting injured on their watch.

Jaskier has protested, but even he can tell that Stephen is still upset. He settles down after seeing that Stephen is actually...really comfortable doing it? He seems to be unperturbed with helping the servants in their labour. The rest of the N7s are also rather quiet in their support.

The servants are pleasantly surprised by the N7s skills in housekeeping, just enough to be helpful without being an added burden to their work. The chambermaids find them somewhat odd, always wearing gloves, masks, and an apron when helping. They also tend to clean every nook and cranny, to the point that even the resident cats can’t find a dusty corner in the keep.

If nothing else, after the 2 weeks are finished the N7s have endeared themselves to the human staff in Kaer Morhen, and to the head maid Agnieszka and her chambermaids in particular.

“If you ever need a referral to a job outside Kaer Morhen, just tell me, darling. I would be more than happy to assist.”

The 4 of them were so busy, they almost missed the announcement of Jaskier becoming Geralt’s consort. Stephen sent Jaskier a calligraphy gift basket as a congratulatory gift. Victoria helped him pick the items out from the tributes that are sent to Kaer Morhen.

It was weeks later before they could speak to Jaskier in person. By then, they’d finished cleaning the castle from top to bottom and had even managed to get rid of the slight mildew scent in the privy at the northern side of the castle. He was rather proud of that, being able to get rid of something that even the chambermaids had given up as a lost cause long ago.

By chance, Stephen came across Jaskier in the hallway just past the kitchens.

“Oh, hello.”

“Stephen, thank you for the gift basket.”

“The Consort will likely be writing quite often now that his position in the council is official.”

“Yes, I suppose I will. How has Agnieszka and her chambermaids been treating you?”

“They’ve been very helpful and accommodating. How has being the Consort been?”

Jaskier’s facial expression changed from politely considerate to fond, and Stephen didn’t need to be a sorceress to know what was going through his mind.

“It’s been...better than I could ever have hoped for. Geralt is...”

“Ungodly handsome?”

“ _Magnificent_.”

“Congratulations on your new relationship.”

“Thank you.”

Stephen is reminded of how Alessia and Victoria first looked when they started dating, because Alessia had that exact facial expression for an entire year. Of course, Alessia would no doubt bring up the fact that he also had the exact same expression when he first started dating James...

“I’ll see you around?”

“Yes, you likely will.”


End file.
